


Breathe

by Fumm95



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff, Morning Cuddles, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fumm95/pseuds/Fumm95
Summary: Asra and his apprentice have a quiet morning to themselves.





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the Faith Hill song of the same name, found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aFYHZazHyk), which I’ve been listening to on repeat while writing this.
> 
> Because Asra is so sweet and wonderful and deserves some fluff (and all of the good things but knowing me, I’m not going to write that. :P)

Lying with him like this is the most natural thing in the world.

Seraphyna takes a deep breath, focuses on the feeling of her chest expanding and relaxing, on the calm that spreads through her entire body from her heart, fairly overflowing with the sensation of his skin against hers, smooth and warm. His weight draped on her, head cushioned on her chest, is serene, comforting. Cherished.

His presence has always been a familiar one, but this… This is something else entirely.

She opens her eyes to find violet ones watching her, soft with affection, mingled with something she’s almost afraid to name. Something that at once makes her feel jittery, nerves fairly churning her stomach, and at peace. At _home_.

In the tender stillness, he says nothing, only lets his lips curl upward as one long-fingered hand curls around hers, lacing together as naturally as always. Golden sunlight, filtering in through the curtains, dances across his face, casting a bronze glow to his cheeks, shining through his curls, mussed with sleep but no less fluffy. As she watches, he blinks once, slowly, sleepily, before shifting his head, leaving a gentle kiss on her chest, right above her heart.

“Good morning, Seraphyna.” His voice is a low murmur, so quiet it hardly seems to break the silence that envelops them, an embrace only marginally less comfortable than his own.

She only hums in return, arm tightening around him until he huffs a laugh, his breath tickling her skin. “A lazy morning, then? I can’t say that would be unwelcome.”

A smile rises, unbidden, to her lips, as she watches him reposition himself, made harder by the firm grasp he keeps on her hand. When he finally settles, his head remaining over her heart, he turns his warm gaze up to her. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” Her answer falls from her lips without thought, quick and honest, and she’s not sure whose face is more red, hers at making the admission or his for having heard it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“As am I.” His eyes flutter close, and, for a moment, she wonders whether he has fallen back asleep, as he is wont to do. But no, his fingers trace gently along her skin in patterns so intricate and complex that she can’t even follow them. “I’ve missed this,” he says at last, so soft that she wonders whether she’s meant to hear it at all.

“This?”

He tilts his head back to meet her gaze, face solemn and so full of emotion that she finds herself frozen, breathless. “This. You.” A reverent hand lifts to brush against her cheek, trembling more violently than the first time their lips met, and his eyes dart across her face, as if committing every detail to memory. “I… It’s been so long.”

At that, at the sheer _pain_ in his voice, she looks away, an apology on her lips, but before she can say anything, his lips are on hers, cutting her thoughts short.

“Your memory loss is no fault of your own,” he whispers, lips only a hairsbreadth away.

“I know.” And she _does_ , but that alone is not enough to change the years of agony, of separation and waiting that she has unwittingly subjected him to. And though she says nothing, the gentleness of his gaze provides a response so compassionate and understanding that she can do nothing more than pull him nearer, to make up for her long absence.

To tell him, without the words that she cannot seem to force from her mouth, that she has no intention of leaving him. Not now, and not ever.


End file.
